


Fruits of Labor

by violenteer



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, M/M, starting slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-06-27 01:50:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violenteer/pseuds/violenteer
Summary: Bits and pieces of your time with the Groom.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a sweet pain, a mean pain, bitter and deranged. Thin lines of bright red around the neck, flowing smoothly from shoulder blade to lower back. There’s a hair of doubt in the air, some suspicion. But for the most part all is quiet.

The wailing died away some time ago, replaced with wet sounds. Squelching. Squishing. Splendid sliding from one map of skin to the next.

A deep breath in that’s blown out slowly. Can you hear him now? Do you feel his hands? Is it troubling to you how much you enjoy the idea?

Or do you like him for other reasons? Maybe you have a problem. Maybe you’re a little sick.

That’s okay.

So is he.


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie has cleaned every inch of you with the rags he keeps of his old shirts, old dresses. He tells you it’s no problem that you’re so filthy. He knows it’s only skin-deep. You’re his angel. You’ve never had an unclean thought in your life, have you, darling?

You’re usually too frightened to reply. It’s no different when he asks before he can redress you. The patient uniform no longer seems to be enough. His wedding dresses tempt him, but he knows that a wedding would have to be in order, and you’re a little too frail for such an uproarious occasion.

No, you need your strength. How can he help you? He asks. He likes to ask. Sometimes, you’re so terrified what he’ll do to you if he doesn’t like your fear that you open your mouth, but it never helps.

Either his hand or his mouth meets you. You’re shushed. Be quiet, darling. Just for the moment. You mustn’t waste your breath on such useless questions. You do know that I worry.

He smooths your hair. His hands wander. Fingers trail down to your hips. He pulls you closer, and you have no right to disobey him. He just spent all that time tending to you. Shouldn’t you tend to him a little, too?

If only to make his heart beat a little easier in his heavy chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff.

Eddie lays you down on soft sheets in your bedroom. Your head hurts in a pounding, all-consuming way, but when he touches you it’s almost like nothing’s wrong. He drapes a blanket over your prone form. His hand glides up and down your clothed back smoothly.

He whispers things to you. Sweet things. Comforting things. He’s telling you the medication should kick in soon, and then you won’t have to worry about a thing.

You still feel cold from the whipping winds outside your apartment. Winter has set its icy hands on your town; its fingerprints fit easily onto your skin, making what was once pink blue, and what was once red purple.

"Stay please," you whisper to him the second he leans away.

In the blink of an eye he’s back. He’s not crowding, but he’s close, and his smile is so warm you feel steeped in it, saturated by it. It’s the sun in a gray sky. A glowing moon in the dead of night. You anchor yourself to it immediately, without trying.

"Of course," he whispers into your hair where he places a soft kiss.

Eddie rounds your bed and lays down with you. He unbuttons and shucks his crisp white shirt. Unrolls and discards his socks. Slides his pants smoothly down and away from his long, muscular legs.

In nothing but a thin white t-shirt and boxers, he comes to you again. His warm arms envelop you almost completely. He’s careful as he holds you, making sure not to jostle his angel too much. Nothing means more to Eddie than keeping you safe and happy.

You ease back in to his embrace eagerly, wanting so badly to forget your pain and your cold, cold skin. He’s an open oven of a man. He soothes you like no one and nothing else could.

"Alright?" He asks gently.

You don’t want to nod, you don’t want to speak. You simply push back further, like a cat waxing toward a sunny window.

He laughs and kisses the back of your neck.

"Sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake up."

And he is.


End file.
